Sometimes, you take the little things for granted on a plane, like the tiny screen in front of you. When you don’t have it, suddenly it doesn’t such a little thing anymore.

Travelling from home to Frankfurt took about 11 hours. It probably would’ve gone by a lot sooner if I wasn’t in one of those situations you only seem to see on TV.

First, I was sandwiched between two rather large men. The one to my right had long hair he enjoyed flicking in my direction every so often. Somewhere at the five-hour mark, he also took off his shoes. Yes, I also detected that before I had the chance to glance down.

Second, the guy to my left—now, that was an interesting one. 75 years old, spoke with a thick Polish accent but was living in Adelaide. I knew this because he wouldn’t. stop. talking. to. me.

He managed to initiate conversation by staring intently at me while I was playing with my PSP. Feeling his stare boring down, I took a quick glance at him. Which is when the mighty gates opened.

He even prodded me when I tried to appear asleep several conversations later.

He was one of those grumpy men, yelling at the guy in front of him when he tried to put his seat back, and even put his leg up and punched the seat when the guy in front tried again some hours later.

It was when he punched the seat in front of him that I heard a loud clunk. Odd. Then I looked properly.

There it was, a prosthetic hand. The same one he had been using to prod me. It was smooth, hardly with any features even attempting to fake the look of a real hand. Just a beige claw.

What a stereotype. The grouchy old man with the fake hand who can’t stop talking to you.

Anyway, he seemed to warm up later (all on his own, by the way), telling me that he lost his hand when he was doing a friend a favour and clearing his land on a tractor, when he was hit by a train. On New Year’s Eve, 1951. He woke up four days later, missing a hand.

When we were disembarking, he turned to me and said, “My name’s Kass.”

“I’m Victoria,” I replied.

“That’s where my wife comes from. Auf Wiedersehen,” he said, and flashed a wide, bright smile my way.